Trouble Finds Me
by New and Old
Summary: [Gen] Post DH. Even the greatest hero must face trials with no clear goal or enemy. "The Master of Death" was not just a title from a children's tale...
1. Chapter 1: Beginning of the End

***Disclaimer: **J. K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter series.

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*2014-10-05 Reconstruction: Chapter 1~3 has been merged into one. If you've already read all three of the 'Beginning of the End' chapters, feel free to skip over this chapter.

Check my profile for more detailed info.

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**Trouble Finds Me**

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**Beginning of the End**

(Posted 2014-04-28, Updated 2014-10-05)

A giant crash of glass brought Ron and Hermione rushing to the bathroom.

They had been in the process of renovating Ron and Hermione's new apartment, with Ron in the living room painting the walls a pale beige, Hermione in the kitchen installing muggle and wizard kitchenware, and Harry taking apart the tiles in the bathroom in preparation for re-tiling.

"...Bloody hell, what happened here?" Ron took one look at the mess and rushed out for the first aid kit.

The mirror was in pieces and Harry was in the middle of the mess trying to pick out glass from the scratches on his hand.

"Harry, are you alright? Stay still and let me clean that up for you." With a sweep of her wand, Hermione gathered the mirror pieces together and repaired it, then levitated the mirror back on the wall.

"...getting injured doing renovations... trouble finds him, indeed," Ron was muttering as he came back with the first aid kit and some bandages. Opening the kit and taking out the antiseptic, Ron called Harry over. "Here, mate. This'll sting."

"Sorry, that stubborn tile next to the mirror wouldn't come off, so I tried to lever it out with another piece of tile, but it broke... And my hand kind of...went through the mirror."

"Harry, there is something called magic, you know." Hermione sounded exasperated, as if repeating something for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, well... I just felt like doing it the muggle way this time around because... Ron?" Harry paused when he saw Ron's expression.

"Mate, you haven't exactly used magic just now without noticing, have you?" Ron was pale, and something in his tone gave Harry a strange premonition that something big was about to happen.

"... No, why?"

"... There's no wound." Ron whispered.

It took a moment for Hermione to understand the implied meaning behind those words.

They all heard Harry's muttering in the silence. "And here I was, thinking I had been too drugged up with too many healing potions and hallucinating before."

Hermione and Ron had twin looks of disbelief.

"You mean to tell me your body bloody healed itself before and you didn't say anything?!"

"Harry, please tell me you were going to tell us about this... Wait. Is this why you were constantly brooding and broke up with Ginny last month?" Hermione's face was becoming more and more horrified by the second.

Harry looked bone-weary and so much older than his age of twenty two. In fact, only ten minutes ago, he had looked much more carefree and younger, almost as if he were still...

"...Oh, Harry." Realization colored Hermione's face as she examined him closely and noticed the difference – or more like, lack of difference. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Tell us what? What's going on? …Hermione? Harry?" Ron was getting more and more frustrated, trying to understand what in the world Hermione was talking about.

After a long pause, Harry finally whispered, "It seems that I can't get hurt… nor age."

Ron's mouth fell open in surprise, but closed quickly. He joked weakly. "Perhaps you just look good for your age?"

"Harry, are you sure about the not aging part? It's quite normal for wizards to have a longer life-span..." But Hermione only looked like she was trying to convince herself that it wasn't true.

Once not aging was mentioned and Harry was observed closely, one could find no discrepancies from the Harry after the war and the Harry in front of them.

Harry broke the silence. "You already suspected, didn't you, Hermione?"

Ron and Hermione shared a look.

Hermione started pacing the already-tight-bathroom, thinking furiously. Flicking her wand once again to clean up the blood on the tiles, she explained. "We didn't think it was something as big as… this. But I did suspect that issues would rise up with you owning the cloak, gaining allegiance from the Elder Wand, and using the stone –"

"– like that grandiose 'Master of Death' title." Ron interrupted.

"– because you did 'master' them. And we really weren't sure if anything would happen in the first place. We didn't want to jump to conclusions without definite proof."

Hermione continued. "Actually, I wasn't even sure of you unlocking powers at all. Remember what Mr. Lovegood said: if united, the three Hallows will make the possessor master of Death.' Then he emphasized the parts about being 'master', 'conqueror', and 'vanquisher'. So does this mean you are a master of death, as in you wouldn't die? Or was it a simple phrase that fit in with the story itself? The character Death could have been an actual person; possibly an enemy of the Peverell brothers... is that what it means? Ugh! I really need to research this more thoroughly. I even went to Dumbledore, but he didn't have any more information for me. But where to go? The Department of Mysteries? Durmstrang? Considering that Grindelwald was a student there…"

As Hermione started talking to herself, muttering the pros and cons about places she could possibly search for more information, Ron glanced at Harry.

"Blimey. Mate? Since when have you noticed that you were…err…"

"Unbreakable? Immortal?" Harry said with a humorless laugh. "About a month after the last battle. I may have noticed the not aging part subconsciously, but didn't want to face the truth. Just got the slap in the face when I took a closer look at myself the night I realized some paper cuts I got in the morning had disappeared that day."

With a soft touch on both of his friends' shoulders, Harry interrupted Ron's brooding silence and Hermione's mutterings. Continuing in a light voice, "We need to finish renovations today. Come on you lot, let's go back to work."

Hermione looked like she was about to protest; Harry held out his hand to stop her.

"Hermione, I know this is big news. I'm actually freaking out myself. I understand we need to talk through this, but it's not now. We have too little information. In any case, I'm pretty sure if anyone can find information, it's you. But right now we really do need to finish this apartment before your wedding next week. You both deserve time off on your honeymoon, and coming back to a half-renovated bathroom isn't going to be fun."

When she opened her mouth to argue, Ron stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"He's right Hermione. We need more information, but it's going to take more than a day of research, alright? Let's all just... get used to the information. For now."

Harry threw a grateful look towards Ron then turned towards the door.

"Well? Where did you leave the new tiles? The bathroom's ready for them."

{(TFM)}

At dinner at the nearby muggle diner, Hermione placed protective wards she hadn't needed since the war. She questioned Harry, but learned nothing new.

"I don't believe any of the Hallows questers that Lovegood mentioned were able to master all of them, much less had one in possession knowing what it was. Actually, we are probably the experts, now. We know about them as extensively if not even more than they do. Should we look for the other questers, to see what theories they have about what happens to the one who unites the Hallows? Would they even share the information with us in the first place? Lovegood only spilled because he was under high pressure. I don't think he will be as accommodating this time around."

Ron snorted.

"Ha! 'Accommodating'? I don't want to see the treacherous bleeder who betrayed us. Besides, those questers will have no clue. Old Xeno had unknowingly given us a clue when he said that the descendants of the Peverell family died in the male line. I mean, if I were really looking for a Hallow, besides the Elder Wand which has a 'bloody trail in history', I would search for the cloak passed down through the generations and try and acquire it first. It is quite simple to track down a family, after all. However, no one in living memory has done it yet, or you would have known. Dumbledore doesn't count, he was just looking. My point is, we know more about the Hallows than Xenophilius does, and I seriously doubt if anyone else knows even more than he does. I mean, Hermione, you dismissed it as a simple children's tale before seeing it for yourself. Not many people are willing to believe things as easily as the Lovegoods do. Those questers probably think a little more like you and me. Anyway, I don't think it's a good idea to start asking around about the Hallows to anyone right now... We're under public scrutiny with our wedding so close, not to mention Harry is under constant scrutiny. Those idiots will start thinking Harry will aim to become the next dark wizard if he steps a toe out of line."

Hermione blinked in surprise."...Wow Ron. That was quite a rant. I never knew you had it in you."

"Always the tone of surprise," Ron grumbled. "Blimey, I mean, just remember what happened after his breakup with Ginny! And I know that relationship wasn't declared public after the war. Even Mum thought the public was going overboard."

Harry had stayed silent for most of the conversation, but agreed with Ron, albeit for a different reason.

"Hermione, Ron's right. We can't just start asking around, much less start searching for information. Please don't ask people about it - even Mr. Lovegood. I don't want any Unspeakables catching wind of an immortal person from the Hallows, which is still considered to be a fairy tale. I have a feeling I'll wind up in a 'glass cage' indefinitely, being observed and experimented on. Not to mention that I would have even less privacy."

As they finished dinner in silence and started on dessert, Hermione broached the topic.

"So... Harry? About Ginny?"

Harry sighed.

"Look Hermione. I don't really want to talk about all the reasons why we broke up. But you should understand that we mutually agreed to this, and it didn't have much to do with my... problem."

"She's never going to let you off with so little information, mate." Ron commented, seeing the glare Hermione was giving Harry.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but Ginny was heartbroken after the breakup! If this is you being all noble and sacrificing because of your little 'problem', I will... I will... I will make sure you two are locked up together after I tell her about it!"

Ron winced.

Sighing again, Harry explained patiently.

"Before, I loved her - romantically. I really did. But I changed too much in the war. We weren't the same people who dated back in school. She said she loved me too, but she agreed that it had started with adulation, progressed to love, but changed to a more brotherly love. I am not so sure I consider her to be a sister, but I think it is for the best. Again, we _mutually_ _agreed_, Hermione. I made sure to make it clear to her that if she wishes to still continue, I wouldn't stop her; I only honestly gave her my thoughts about how I don't see her the same way as before."

When he saw Hermione's mouth open to ask another question, he cut her off with another sigh.

"Yes, the immortality did have something to do with it. I didn't tell her, I didn't know how to, or that there actually was an issue. But even if I did tell her, who would want to marry someone knowing that her partner would outlive her? Someone who would look like her son when she becomes an old woman? Ginny might, but she has been honest with me as well, telling me that she doesn't see in us what she sees in you two or Bill and Fleur."

Harry paused with a far look in his eyes.

"Even without her telling me that, when I see Ginny and picture her future, I picture her at her wedding, with some bloke I have a feeling I won't like too much, taking care of her family like Mrs. Weasley does. When I look ahead to my own future... I can't see myself spending the rest of my days with a family. Extended bachelorhood, with Kreacher for company, pondering philosophy, studying deeper magics to try to understand why things happened the way it did... yes. I had hoped I would have a life after defeating him, but even you know I won't. Everything shifted ever since experiencing - no, visiting King's Cross. Even flying doesn't feel the same anymore."

There was a brief silence while Hermione looked lost for words and Ron gave a resigned sigh.

"Be glad my brothers didn't go after you after breaking up with Ginny. Not that they wouldn't, had you been in the wrong. It's just that… we all saw that it wasn't working for both of you."

Harry gave a rueful laugh. "If they had been after me, I doubt whether I could have survived. It is si- five against one, after all." He then stood up and picked up his coat.

"Well, it's time for me to go. Kreacher's expecting me. My treat, since I'm leaving early. Take your time and don't talk about me, for a change." Harry chuckled while putting down several pounds on the counter for the meal. "Talk about yourselves. I mean, I'm pretty sure there are still issues you two need to work out before tying the knot. At least, that's what other married people tell me."

He waggled his eyebrows at Ron and gave a discreet wink to Hermione.

"Good night, both of you. I'll see you two tomorrow."

Before Hermione and Ron could deter Harry from leaving, Harry left the diner into the dark alley nearby; those listening for it heard the crack of apparition.

There was a brief silence as Ron absentmindedly picked at his plate. Hermione had a worried look on her face.

Ron took Hermione's hand and squeezed. "Hey, enough of that look. I'm sure Harry can take care of himself."

"Yes, I know. But I can't help but worry that he is going to sacrifice his life for the rest of us…again."

"Let's hope he's not that much of a fool. Hogging all the limelight for being noble and sacrificial and all that. That is, without _me_." Ron deadpanned.

"Oh, _Ron_."

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**A/N** \- This chapter has officially finished undergoing reconstruction! If you see any errors, please point them out in a review or PM.

Hopefully the sort of new and old parts of the story will make it better.

Lots of cyber-love for those who review!


	2. Chapter 2: Mrs Black's Portrait

*2014-10-05 Reconstruction: Chapter simply rearranged. If you've read this part, you can skip it.

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**Previously:**

_Ron took Hermione's hand and squeezed. "Hey, enough of that look. I'm sure Harry can take care of himself."_

_"Yes, I know. But I can't help but worry that he is going to sacrifice his life for the rest of us…again."_

_"Let's hope he's not that much of a fool. Hogging all the limelight for being noble and sacrificial and all that. That is, without_ me."_ Ron deadpanned._

_"Oh,_ Ron."

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**Mrs. Black's Portrait**

(Posted 2014-05-06, Updated 2014-10-05)

Harry landed on the front step of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

When he stepped inside, Kreacher appeared with a crack. He took Harry's coat while greeting him. "Master Harry, I am glad you are home! Kreacher has prepared soup and treacle tart that master is so fond of! Should Kreacher set it in the kitchen?"

"Sorry, I've already had dinner with Ron and Hermione, sorry for not letting you know earlier. But treacle tart sounds good. Could you get some to my office?"

"Of course, Master Harry. Dessert will be there in five minutes."

"Thanks, Kreacher."

"Kreacher only doing his duty, sir." Kreacher held out a letter. "Mr. Weasley the curse-breaker has sent you a letter today; would Master like to see it or should Kreacher put it on Master's office desk for later?"

"I'll read it now, thanks."

Harry walked towards his office, reading the letter. When he reached about the middle of the letter, he changed direction and walked towards the stairway.

Harry trudged up the stairs, stopping at Mrs. Black's portrait.

"Renovation's at the blood-traitor's going wrong, I hope." Mrs. Black commented acerbically, looking up and down at Harry's tired frame.

Mrs. Black, surprisingly, did not raise her voice above normal conversation level, sitting stiffly in place.

"Ah…actually, everything is on schedule, Mrs. Black. I am just tired and shocked from a bit of news I received."

"Hmm," Mrs. Black frowned. "Go to bed early. As the Black and Potter heir, you are expected to take care of your own health and not disgrace the names of the Ancient and Noble Houses."

"Alright, Mrs. Black. As you wish."

"Now, is there something you wanted? If not, go fraternize with that blood-traitor and mudblood friend of yours and leave me in peace!"

"Well, I wanted to let you know that Bill has found a way to permanently remove the personality-amplifying spell from the frame. It's surprisingly simple. I can even do it right now… if you want."

Mrs. Black blinked in surprise, but soon rearranged her face into a scowl. "Incompetent blood-traitor he is, taking over a month to find a permanent counter-spell. Orion would have found it in a week! Well, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and cast it!'

With a small chuckle, Harry read through the procedure once more, then placed Bill's letter on a stair nearby and propped it up. He took out his familiar holly wand and began to mutter the incantations on the letter, accompanied by some wand work. In a few moments, he stopped and examined the painting's frame closely. As he watched the runes disappearing from the portrait frame, Harry was reminded again of the drastic difference in the portrait of Mrs. Black.

After the war, Harry had finally had the freedom and time to go through the Black's and Potter's vault in Gringotts. The Potter's vault had nothing note-worthy, with several deeds for undeveloped land near the Irish shore. On the other hand, it seemed that Sirius had simply skimmed over most of his inheritance, almost ignoring the vault full of objects that proclaimed support for old, pureblood values. In fact, the only thing Sirius changed at Gringotts was his will – specifically the part about the heir to the Black fortune.

Harry had asked the goblins to provide a suitable person to determine the purpose of unknown magical objects to go through the entire vault and was quite surprised to meet Bill the next morning. It seemed that curse-breakers were quite adept at determining the purpose of an unknown magical object and disabling harmful magic.

The next few weeks were filled with adventure; Bill teaching him some basic ancient runes on the side as they looked through the vault and its artefacts. They made sure all the Dark enchanted objects' uses were noted, if not prepared for destruction immediately.

They found dark things that they destroyed right away, but many interesting magical objects with seemed to be broken – these were kept in the vault. But the most useful out of all these discoveries was a self-updating tome of the Black Family line, together with its portraits. It had been tucked away in a corner underneath a box containing a veiled mirror with runes similar to the Mirror of the Erised (turned out to be a prototype of the mirror that showed one's deepest desires torn away).

They had counted on the portraits to explain the uses of several artefacts, but many of the portraits had lost its magic, turning into still paintings. Bill explained that there needed to be ambient magic to continue the portraits to move, which the Black family portraits from hundreds of years ago did not have. The tome, explaining the idiosyncrasies and general achievements of each ancestor, gave the two an idea of what to expect from an artefact of that time period.

While flicking through the tome, Harry found out that Mrs. Black's portrait had been painted during Voldemort's first rise to power. Being the zealous follower of removing tainted blood, Mrs. Black had commissioned her painting to be spelled to emphasize her dislike of blood-traitors and mudbloods. She then arranged for it to be placed in her home upon her death.

The spell was recorded in the book, and Bill had taken a week to temporarily undo its effects and restore the portrait's original personality. The resulting product was a slightly strict and traditional woman, angry at the new Black Family head. The portrait had spent the next few months moaning about the state of the house from her vantage point (which Kreacher was much embarrassed by) and the state of Black family affairs that were ruined from Sirius' ("traitorous, no-good, Gryffindor-loving boy I had the misfortune of birthing!") handling.

But during those months, Kreacher continued to talk to the portrait, telling her the truth behind the disappearance of master Regulus, as well as master Harry's ancestry. By this time, Harry had earned Kreacher's unending loyalty for completing master Regulus' task, as well as providing him a respectable job as a house-elf.

Soon, Mrs. Black came to see that Harry had absolutely no knowledge of what the role the heir of an Ancient and Noble house entailed. She took it upon herself to correct this crooked way of thinking. Sirius' heir or not, it was her responsibility as the last Black head's mother and the wife of a former Black head. She still disapproved of most of his company; however, she remained civil, only sprouting some insults when spoken to by blood-traitors and mudbloods (the Weasleys and Hermione).

"Well, Mrs. Black, all seems to be in order. The amplifying spell is gone." Harry said as he put his wand away.

Mrs. Black sniffed loudly. "Hmm. Finished in a timely manner… as expected from the heir of the Noble House of Black."

Harry grinned tiredly. "I might still call Bill in to look over my work. I'm pretty sure I removed the spell, but it never hurts to make sure."

"Very well, I will tolerate the blood-traitor once more."

With a knowing look, Harry shook his head, exasperated at her insistent name-calling. "I'll be in my office, Mrs. Black."

Catching Harry's expression, Mrs. Black scowled deeply. "Do not try my patience, boy. As the Matriarch of the Black family, I demand you stop bringing blood-traitors and mudbloods into my home. I only tolerate those you bring because of their unrivaled skill and good upbringing."

"Of course, Mrs. Black."

"Go to bed early!"

"Yes, Mrs. Black!" Harry called back as he headed towards his office.

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**A/N - **This chapter has officially undergone reconstruction!

If you note any mistakes, please mention it in a review or PM.

Lots of cyber-love to "Read then Review"-ers!


	3. Chapter 3: Dealing With Death

*2014-10-08 Reconstruction: Chapters 'United, Once More' and 'Dealing With Death' has been merged. Some rearrangement and re-wording, along with general grammar cleanup.

If you've already read these chapters, you can skip it... but I recommend re-reading it.

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**Previously:**

_"Very well, I will tolerate the blood-traitor once more."_

_With a knowing look, Harry shook his head, exasperated at her insistent name-calling. "I'll be in my office, Mrs. Black."_

_Catching Harry's expression, Mrs. Black scowled deeply. "Do not try my patience, boy. As the Matriarch of the Black family, I demand you stop bringing blood-traitors and mudbloods into my home. I only tolerate those you bring because of their unrivaled skill and good upbringing."_

_"Of course, Mrs. Black."_

_"Go to bed early!"_

_"Yes, Mrs. Black!" Harry called back as he headed towards his office._

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**Dealing With Death**

(Posted 2014-05-13, Updated 2014-10-08)

As soon as Harry stepped into his office, he headed straight to his armchair next to the fireplace.

Kreacher had already placed a tray with a plate of treacle tarts and a hot cup of tea on the small side table nearby.

Harry let out a deep sigh as he lowered himself into the armchair.

It was finally confirmed. He couldn't delude himself into thinking that he had been tired and was mistaken. His two best friends had all but witnessed and confirmed the impossibility that _he_ – the Chosen-One and Boy-Who-Lived and all that rot – may be immortal.

…If not immortal, at least possessing logic-defying regenerative abilities.

Harry stood up and went to the filing cabinet next to the desk. He opened the second drawer and pressed a hidden button. With a click, a hidden vault on the wall smoothly opened up, revealing a stack of documents, a pile of gold and silver, and the folded, shimmering cloak of invisibility. He took out the cloak and closed the vault, then sat at his desk, laying out the cloak on the desk.

Harry simply looked at the cloak for a moment, admiring the shimmering quality that seemed worn yet timeless. After the war, he hadn't needed the cloak; a quick disillusionment charm had been enough for his needs.

With a sigh, Harry took out his wand and started examining it from one end to the other, inch by inch, stopping at every pattern in the cloth, carefully prodding and smoothing out folds of the cloak.

Perhaps there was something he missed?

He was not actually expecting anything at all, so felt his stomach drop when he found a lump.

…In all the years he used the cloak, he had never noticed a pocket on the lining of the cloak before.

_I have a bad feeling about this…_

Reluctantly, Harry reached into the pocket and felt a wand.

_Oh no._

He slowly pulled it out.

_No, it can't be._

He tried to deny even the possibility that what he thought was correct, but the power humming under his fingers were unmistakable.

He slowly placed the wand – _the elder wand_ – on the desk with great hesitation.

For a full minute, Harry simply stared apprehensively at the wand and the cloak, not knowing what to do.

Then he saw a smaller lump in the new-found pocket of the cloak.

Incapable of coherent thought, he found himself dazedly reaching for and taking out a small cracked stone – _the resurrection stone_ – the stone he had thrown away in the Forbidden Forest.

As soon as the rock fell out of the cloak, the pocket lining disappeared, and the cloak – _the cloak of invisibility_ – shimmered innocently.

"…"

The Deathly Hallows…

…were united once again.

{(TFM)}

For a long moment, He could only stare in disbelief.

"...Ha...ha.. Dumbledore never saw this coming, did he?"

Harry staggered from the desk and drunkenly headed for the bathroom next door.

He splashed water onto himself, trying to make sense of what was happening.

When he looked into the mirror, he found a pale reflection of himself, looking quite frightful with the pallid face and shadows under his eyes.

But what caught his attention was not the shadow on his face, but a shadow that seemed to float in midair next to him. It was getting darker, and Harry could feel a hum of magic gathering around it.

Harry backed away quickly, and ran back to the office to retrieve his wand. With a quick wandless _accio_, he whipped around to face the door, warily watching the shadow-being. The hum of power from the elder wand in his hand only heightened his wariness.

The dark shadow was sluggishly pouring into the room like smoke, getting darker and more solid by the moment.

Harry whispered a shield charm over himself, hoping it was enough.

The shadow shifted into a humanoid shape, the flowing darkness behind him shifting and shimmering, bearing close resemblance with a certain cloak that was on the desk behind him. Where the face should be was a vague outline of one, shadowed by the wisps of insubstantial smoke that surrounded it.

The shadow-being came to a stop in front of him.

There was a short pause, in which the shadow tilted its head and spoke.

"Harry Potter. I see I have finally caught your attention."

The soft voice was neither male nor female, nor anything Harry had heard before. It was an unearthly, a terrifying yet beautiful sound, so full of authority; one's entire existence felt as if a small piece of paper, buffeted by storm winds.

At that moment, Harry understood. He lowered his wand. "...You are Death."

The shadow - no, Death - stayed silent, which was an answer in itself.

Harry waited warily for Death to say something, to do... _something_.

Death did not break his silence; after a minute of tension, Harry finally yielded.

"... What do you want from me?"

The timeless, immortal being contemplated his question, seeming to be calculating his answer. The pause he - she - the being took seemed to last a lifetime, but when Death spoke, it was something so unexpected that Harry needed a moment to check his hearing.

"I wish to suggest a deal."

_A deal? A force of nature, something that no man can run away from, is asking _me_ for a deal?_

Harry collected himself with a shaky but deep breath. "... And what deal would that be?"

This time, Death answered right away.

"The Hallows; they are objects that are go against the Natural Order. Destroy them."

"... Why can't you do it yourself?"

"Man was given freedom of choice since his birth - the right to choose, deciding which way he wishes to live his life, be it for good or for evil. I am simply a being created to decrease mankind's long life, as a consequence from Man's actions."

The smoky substance around Death grew thicker.

"Death is absolute. No one escapes it. Men's fates and lives are not set in stone, and I do not judge who to lead away, but I know when their Time has come. I lead them Onwards. This is the Natural Order."

The shadows in the room grew impossibly dark, as if light never existed in the first place.

"The Hallows disregard this ancient Order, but they are not mine to destroy. I could destroy it in but a moment, but that would be taking away men's freedom of choice, going against the very principles on which man was created. The Hallows were created by man and must be destroyed by man."

The shadows lightened up and Death's agitated smoky surroundings settled down once more into a calm cloak of smoke. Death looked expectantly at Harry, waiting for a response.

For the longest time, Harry remained quiet. The explanation was quite enlightening for some of the issues in the world, but it did not answer the main reason for Death's visit. "... Why come to me?"

Death seemed strangely reluctant to answer this, but when Harry pointedly waited for an answer, the immortal spoke again, though clearly subdued.

"No man has been able to rip himself away from the temptation of power, superiority, and arrogance that comes through trying to become a master of one Hallow. Much less three."

Death paused, glancing at Harry from head to toe.

"None had the strength to give up their attraction for them. Or, if they did, they only gave it up partially. That is, until now."

Death scrutinized the Boy-who-lived, the Chosen one, the supposed 'Master of Death'.

_Was that approval?_

Harry took in this observation warily and asked another question. He vaguely waved behind him toward the Hallows on his desk.

"So… I just need to destroy these?"

A simple nod.

"What do I get from this deal?"

"...I help you find a way to continue Onwards."

"...What?"

Death silently looked on.

Filled with dread, Harry started to shake his head violently, understanding that Death's visit had everything to do with his supposed invincibility and nothing to do with dying.

"... No. No. _No_. You can't be serious! You're the one behind this un-aging stunt? You have no right to take that away from me. I want rest; I have no purpose, nothing to live for now. I was and is prepared to wait until my 'Time' comes, but I'm perfectly ready to die _now_. You cannot postpone my right to eternal rest, much less _take it away_!"

"It is not my doing."

Harry waited for elaboration, but he had a horrible inkling of where this was leading to.

"... Well?"

"You already know what I am going to say."

"By joining the Hallows, I did something, didn't I?"

Death looked at Harry, but he got the feeling it was not him Death was seeing.

"The Peverell brothers were few of the most brilliant people in this world. I noticed them starting to meddle in the order of things. It was something not meant to be; death is universal, absolute. They were attempting to go against the Natural Order, stopping me. That would bring forth chaos, and only chaos."

Death's gaze focused back on Harry. Suddenly, out of the blue, Death asked a question.

"Do you know the story of Sisyphus?"

"Who?"

"The king from ancient Greece. Sisyphus, the selfish king who tricked Death and bound him to escape from it himself. For a short amount of time, this caused havoc all around the world because everything wouldn't – _couldn't_ – die."

"You? He bound you?"

"The story has been greatly distorted, but the general idea is correct."

"You mean that the Peverell brothers similarly had tried... to stop you?"

Only silence answered his question, but it confirmed as well as any other spoken answer.

Harry became lost in thought. The implications of binding Death - what in the world had the King Sisyphus used? Death interrupted his musings with a repetition of a phrase he stated earlier.

"Binding Death – binding me – will cause chaos like no other."

Death gazed into space as he spoke, seeing another time, another place, another person.

"The Peverells were too close in achieving this chaos again. Done knowingly or not, to prevent this from happening, I had no choice but to intervene. I separated the Hallows, making sure that each could choose their own masters.

"The elder wand… was fickle. It chose new masters easily, attracting many with its promises of power. Most had no idea that it was only a small part of a greater power.

"The stone… only brought grief and insanity. The few who dared to use it could not resist the call of death they were constantly exposed to. Fortunately, for most of its existence, it remained simply a ring, its powers forgotten.

"The cloak... was was the least potent. The third brother created it, but only he had realized the foolishness of going against the Natural Order. He tried to undo his wrongs, unknowingly assisting me in making sure the objects only joined together under very specific conditions. I allowed the cloak to be passed down along his line, for by itself it was only a powerful magical artifact.

"I had hoped with time the objects would decrease in potency, or be destroyed somehow... never, had I thought that there would be a man who would be able to unite the Hallows together."

Death focused back to the present, and he looked back at Harry.

"The Hallows are not a Horcrux, Harry Potter. They are not something you can destroy by only physical or magical means."

"So how do I destroy them?"

There was a pause, in which Death looked straight into Harry's green eyes.

"I do not know."

Harry's eyes widened at the unexpected answer.

"...Exactly how am I supposed to destroy something that cannot be destroyed physically or magically? How would you destroy it?"

"How can I explain how I do something, when I do not understand myself?"

Harry was filled with disbelief, and was about to argue when Death interrupted.

"There are only two options for you to take. First, destroy the Hallows to continue on your journey Onwards. I will assist you in searching for a way, as well as help avoid scrutiny during your search.

"Second, keep the Hallows, gain immortality, and assist me by watching over the Hallows and any other man-made object that hinders the Natural Order."

"This is no _deal_. A deal would entail an equal exchange! One clearly outweighs the other in its value! Why would I want to outlive everyone else? Death is part of life, one of the defining things that make us human!"

Death took his time answering Harry's outburst.

"There have been many who have sought immortality. Some only seek it temporarily, simply unprepared to face me. A select few tear apart their souls to permanently stay in the land of the living. You have hunted down several of them recently."

"Yes. I get it. I can gain immortality. That's a _great_ option."

"You do not want it."

"Of course not! It sounds too much like what _Voldemort_ would want..."

"You wish to continue Onwards in your journey."

"Yes."

Death became silent once more, sharply observing him.

This time, there was no doubt; Death looked on with approval.

"It is not often I come face to face with a mortal so suited for immortality, yet would reject it in favor of journeying On."

Harry was reminded of Dumbledore at his death; something he said came to mind.

"As an old man once told me, death is but the next great adventure."

Death looked deep in thought, studying Harry again.

"You will make a good Guardian, even if you are currently forced into becoming one. The Hallows have chosen their master well."

With a small sigh, Death straightened his posture and clasped his hands together.

"As I see that you have undergone some scrutiny for your unchanging appearance, I will assist you in making sure you look your age... at least, until you reach your prime.

"Harry Potter. I hope, for your sake, that you find a way. If not, I welcome you to help me maintain the Natural Order. If your immortality is something you cannot avoid, I ask you to take on the mantle of Guardian. I will provide assistance as I can. The Hallows will let me know when you need to contact me."

With that, Death turned around and simply walked away, his form fading away into insubstantial smoke and shadows with each step.

Harry continued to gaze in the direction Death took, but his eyes caught no abnormality in the room. He turned around towards his desk, where the cloak and ring lay innocently on the desk.

He placed the elder wand next to the rest of the Hallows on the desk, involuntarily shivering at the spark of magic that raced up his fingers.

Never in his life had he felt this out of depth, this clueless as to what to do next.

* * *

**A/N** \- Here it is, the moment when Harry meets Death.

Some of the things Death said were really difficult to come up with, because it is Philosophy; what does happen after death? Is there really an afterlife? I have my own views on this, but I didn't want to be all "must believe this!" kind of person, so I tried making it flexible.

I can tell J.K. Rowling did a lot of thinking for Book 7: Deathly Hallows, the chapter where Harry meets Dumbledore at King's Cross as well... And she makes it seamlessly flow! Respect for J.K. Rowling went up like, a few meters high after rereading the King's Cross chapter.

Well, hope you liked it. Those who read it before, there are some parts that changed, so...

Cyber-love to those who Read n' Reviewwwww~!


	4. Chapter 4: A Time of Joyous Celebration

**Previously:**

_With that, Death turned around and simply walked away, his form fading away into insubstantial smoke and shadows with each step._

_Harry continued to gaze in the direction Death took, but his eyes caught no abnormality in the room. He turned around towards his desk, where the cloak and ring lay innocently on the desk._

_He placed the elder wand next to the rest of the Hallows on the desk, involuntarily shivering at the spark of magic that raced up his fingers._

_Never in his life had he felt this out of depth, this clueless about what to do next._

* * *

**Chapter 4: A Time of Joyous Celebration**

(Posted 2014-10-30, Updated - -)

Harry slumped into his armchair next to the unlit fireplace, looking towards his desk where the Hallows still lay.

"Kreacher?"

With a crack, Kreacher appeared with a small bow, gazing up at Harry.

"Yes, Master?"

"Could you get me a cold cup of water? I.. I've had some bad news."

"Yes Master." Kreacher looked worried, as worried as an old elf could look. He cracked his fingers and held out a tray with a cup and a pitcher of water.

As Kreacher poured out the cup, he muttered under his breath, quite loudly at that, obviously hinting at Harry to go rest.

"…Mistress wanted Master Harry to go to bed early, but Master is not going to bed… Kreacher wants Master to rest, but Kreacher can't tell Master what to do…"

By this time Harry had already downed a cup and was pouring another for himself.

Feeling slightly better as he sipped the second cup, Harry thanked Kreacher, reassuring him that he would go to bed soon. Kreacher left with a small bow.

After a few more minutes of silent contemplation on how to destroy the Hallows, Harry got up, placed the Hallows in the hidden vault, then headed for his bedroom. There was nothing he could do now. He would start searching up destructive spells and perhaps research some muggle methods of destroying an object the next day.

As he was washing up in preparation for bed, he found himself looking slightly older.

Death had done something to age him, he supposed.

After tossing and turning for several hours in bed, he drifted off to sleep wondering how in the world he would tell his friends about this.

{(TFM)}

~Several days later~

"Harry!"

"Hello, Ron, Hermione. Tomorrow's the big day! Are you ready?"

Harry had come around to pick up Hermione and Ron to drop them off to their respective pre-wedding parties.

As the three of them walked to the waiting portkey, with a glance around to check no one was nearby, Hermione cautiously commented, "You... look older."

Harry grimaced, reluctant about answering her implied question.

"Er... yeah, about that. I actually met Death -"

"_What?_" "Met -?"

Harry quickly forged ahead, not really wishing to go into details.

"- and he told me he had been... pulling my leg, so to speak. He was interested in the person who had joined the Hallows together."

Both Hermione and Ron had stopped walking, staring at Harry.

Ron broke the silence with a bewildered look. "By Merlin, Harry, what's going on? Death pulling people's leg?"

"Harry, just tell us! I keep getting the feeling you aren't saying everything there is to say!"

Harry motioned to the portkey area a few meters ahead.

"Later, Hermione. After you come back from your honeymoon. There's no hurry. If you hear the details now, I don't think you two would enjoy your week off as much."

"But - but -"

Harry gave Hermione an exasperated look. "Later, Hermione."

After a brief eye-staring contest, Ron reached out and gently guided Hermione forward towards the portkey, a chipped mug cup.

"Come on, Hermione. He promises to tell us later, _right_ Harry?" Ron gave Harry a glare.

Harry gave him a mock salute with his first two fingers. "Yessir, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione and Ron blushed deeply, both trying to outdo Ron's hair color.

Harry burst into raucous laughter at his two best friends' embarrassment. He held out the mug towards them by its handle.

"Alright, next stop is Hermione's hen's night area where we'll drop her off, then we'll take another portkey to Ron's stag party."

Harry looked at his watch.

"Come on then! Touch the portkey. Alright... in three, two, one."

They were at shell cottage, where Fleur had volunteered her house for Hermione and her bridesmaids. Harry and Ron were quickly chased out by the other girls, and when Hermione gave Ron a worried look, Harry gave her with a bright grin.

"Hermione, enjoy your night. I promise we won't be _too_ tough on Ron."

Slinging an arm around Ron, Harry pulled him towards another portkey ready for them on the yard. When Ron dawdled, trying to see through the windows to get a last glimpse of his fiancé, Harry gave him a playful punch.

"George is going to prank me till the end of time if I make you late for your party. Come on Ron. Ready? In three, two, one."

{(TFM)}

~The Next Day, Shell Cottage~

The wedding was a small event, with only friends and family invited.

Considering that one of the family involved were the Weasley's, it was a paradoxical statement: the number of red-heads alone made the wedding almost as large as Bill's and Fleur's from several years ago.

Harry reached over and fixed Ron's tie that he was struggling with, as his fingers were shaking. "Nervous?"

Ron looked practically green in the face, reminiscent of the times he played Keeper for Gryffindor. "Yeah."

Neville came over half-dressed in his suit. "Blimey, Ron, you're as green as that time in second year, throwing up slugs!"

"Not _helping_, Neville."

Neville gave a boisterous laugh. "Well, you sure can't leave Hermione at the altar, now, can you? Harry and I'll be forced to hex you."

Ron groaned.

Ever since the end of the war, Neville had become much more confident in himself, cracking jokes with people, when, before, he would have cowered or stuttered his apologies instead.

"Hey Harry, mind handing me that comb next to you?"

Harry wordlessly handed it over.

Ron took a fortifying breath as he tried to give himself a pep talk. "Okay. It's going to be okay. I've been looking forward for this."

"You don't need another 'false' dose of Felix Felicis, do you?"

Ron gave a nervous chuckle. "No, definitely not." He gazed at his reflection quite balefully.

"But... Harry, mate, does Hermione _really_ want to marry me? _Me_?"

Harry composed himself and sincerely tried to convince his best mate.

"Ron, come on. You two have been at it for how long? Five, six years? I'm not saying it was all happy and everything. But _because_ of the hardships you both faced in your relationship, it's going to be easier than most couples to... click."

Ron considered that, absent-mindedly messing up his hair as he thought. Harry quickly grabbed a brush and brushed it back into place after slapping away his best mate's hand.

"But... Harry, me? Really?" Ron's small voice still sounded insecure.

Harry gave Ron a slightly amused, slightly exasperated sigh as he finished smoothing out his hair. "I bet ten galleons that Hermione is going through exactly the same thing as you are. Want me to go and check?"

Ron just looked back at the mirror at his reflection and grumbled something under his breath.

A middle-aged woman's voice came from the mirror, clearly amused. "Ahh, a groom's insecurities before the wedding. How sweet."

Harry snorted, then patted him on the shoulder. "I'll be right back. Prepare to pay up that ten galleons!"

He left the room with Ron spluttering something about never taking up the bet and Neville's roar of laughter behind him.

{(TFM)}

Harry knocked on the door where the bride and bridesmaids were preparing.

"It's Harry. Ron seems to need some reassurance that Hermione is really, really sure that she wants to marry him." His sarcasm only emphasized the humor in his voice.

The door opened, and Harry couldn't help but freeze slightly as he came face to face with Ginny. She was wearing a light blue dress that went well with the white-colored freesia done up in her hair.

He recovered quickly with a small smile.

"Wow Ginny. You look beautiful."

Ginny had been nibbling her lip in nervousness, but at the compliment, she gave a small smile back.

"Thanks. You look quite handsome as well, Harry."

"Thank you."

There was a bit of an awkward pause between them for a while, but Ginny saved them from an even more awkward situation by pulling Harry into the room and talking about the to-be-wedded couple.

"It doesn't surprise me that Ron is nervous. Hermione is exactly like the day she received her O.W.L.s. Do you remember?"

"Ah. You mean the shaking and grabbing the nearest arm to squeeze it hard enough to stop the blood flow?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and nodded.

Harry came in to find Hermione sitting in front of the vanity mirror, holding Luna's hand tightly. She was in her wedding dress, but her face was pale with nervousness, making her look like she was facing a Hungarian Horntail instead of a simple wedding ceremony.

"H-h-harry!" Her plaintive cry was so shaky that Harry could barely keep his laughter in check.

"Hermione, you look amazing. You're going to knock Ron off his feet."

"Y-you think so?"

"Of course."

"But... but... H-harry, what if... later, he doesn't love me anymore? What if we start hating each other? What if I can't control my bossiness enough that Ron gets annoyed by it and leav- "

"Hermione." Harry kept his voice stern. "You two have been together for a long, long time. You two are not going to fall out of love anytime soon, and I highly doubt you two will hate each other."

He paused, thinking over what he just said, and decided to qualify it a bit. "Well, you are allowed to hate him, but just not any more than you do already."

Hermione had been slowly calming down at Harry's logical rebuttal until Harry's last statement. "I do not hate him!" Her protectiveness over Ron was truly very sweet to see.

Harry pretended not to hear her. "I suppose your 'hate' for him is more of a hate-my-annoying-brother kind of hate, so instead of it being a problem, I'll bet it's going to make married life pretty interesting for you two."

Hermione stopped her fiddling with the sleeve of her dress and slowly let go of Luna's hand. She stood up and turned to Harry. She reached out for a hug, a request to which Harry quickly obliged.

"Harry, I'm really, really nervous. I don't know if I can do this! Married life... everyone I've asked said similar things about how it wasn't what they expected and how it was harder than it looks. Even unmarried people I've asked - " Hermione was starting to go into panic as she thought more about the ways a marriages could go wrong, when Harry shushed her, interrupting her.

"Hermione, your research into the subject is only increasing your nervousness. Breathe. Deep breaths. ...That's right, deep breaths." Harry slowly rubbed his nervous best friend's back, breathing with her until she calmed down.

Hermione had buried her face in his shoulders, so her next question came as a small mumble only they could hear.

"... Harry, what does he see in me? Why me? I like going by the rules, I tell everyone the correct way to do things, and I -"

"Shh. It's because you are a beautiful, incredibly intelligent woman who is gentle and sweet to all she loves. A woman who is a muggle-born yet has so much knowledge about the Wizarding world that she knows better than half the Wizarding population put together."

"Oh, Harry. Really?"

"Yup, I don't lie about these things, Hermione." Harry pulled her slightly away from himself to check her face.

"Now, are you calm enough to continue with the preparations? I hope you are going to say yes, because although you're my best friend, that's my best mate you're leaving at the altar. I now know how you made those canaries back in sixth year, you know... "

"Harry!" Hermione playfully slapped Harry on his shoulder.

Luna, who had been quietly watching the entire exchange between the two, spoke up quietly from her seat next to the vanity mirror.

"Wow, Harry, you got rid of all the Wrackspurts clustered around Hermione just now."

Harry turned to Luna and gave her a smile. She was wearing a matching light blue dress as Ginny was, and her hair was done up similarly as well, only with lavender-colored freesia instead of a simple white.

"Luna, hi. You look very beautiful."

"You are looking quite handsome as well. I think the Nargles are going to cluster around you after the wedding ceremony."

"... Ah, yeah." Harry had taken a while to understand that Luna's 'Nargles' were just another word for the generally annoying people one met in their lives.

"Well, it's expected." He said with a sigh of annoyance.

"Anyway, I should get back to Ron before he becomes even more nervous and comes up with the ridiculous notion that I abandoned him." Harry turned back to Hermione.

"Ready?"

"No."

"Well, as you know from experience, there's only so much preparation you can do before you need to take the leap of faith." Harry gave her a small smile. "I'm sure the Gryffindor in you is roaring at you to just go already."

"...Yes."

Chuckling, Harry waved as he headed out. "Well, ladies, I'll leave you to make Hermione the prettiest you can, enough to make even Fleur's veela cousins green with envy. See you all later. I expect Ron to be incapable of speaking for the first few seconds after seeing her."

The giggles from the room behind him let him know that he had succeeded in breaking some, if not all, of Hermione's nervousness.

{(TFM)}

The wedding ceremony was not that much different from other weddings, but Harry experienced the novelty of seeing it from the opposite side of the audience. Ron and Hermione wished for an outside wedding as well, and asked Bill and Fleur for the use of their cottage, as it had the nicest view.

He saw Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger crying their eyes out as soon as Hermione stepped through the arch onto the aisle, Mr. Granger having suspiciously shiny eyes as he walked his daughter down the aisle.

Harry watched Victoire gracefully tossing flowers before Hermione, Teddy almost tripping on a non-existent snag on the even floor and almost lose the rings, and Aberforth, who was fortunately next to him in the seats, save them and, with a wink to Teddy, place the rings back on the cushion.

He saw his best mate be dazzled by the appearance of his future wife; he watched his best friend slowly gain confidence as she gazed into her future husband's eyes.

He paid an absent sort of attention on the ceremony, watching more of how his two friends: best mate and best friend. They were so... right for one another.

They were sneaking glances at each other, and when their gazes met, they blushed and looked away; their attention was not so much on the ceremony, but on each other.

They swore their vows.

They exchanged rings.

They kissed.

They kept a hand on each other's waists, or at least their eyes on each other as they went through the rest of the traditional ceremonies; cutting the cake, a muggle-style dancing routine to a muggle song performed by Ron and Harry with his brothers (Ron had gotten the idea from a muggle wedding and convinced the rest of them), and finally, leading the dance floor for the traditional wizard dancing that accompanied big and happy events.

Harry couldn't keep from smiling as he watched the entire thing unfold right by their side. He had the privilege of seeing their happiness up close.

And what a beautiful thing it was to watch. Their happiness was almost tangible. All their initial nervousness and fear for the future were laid aside as they basked in the feeling of being together, finally.

But his smile also had a bit of a wistful tinge.

He was planning to leave for a while. There were plans for him to travel, leaving letters via Gringotts that said he would come back in several years.

He didn't want to break their lives again, leading a wandering life, most likely almost exactly like that horrid year-long search for the Horcruxes. Only this time, it would be even worse, as even Death did not have a clue to destroying the Hallows.

But even knowing this, they would still immediately drop their jobs, their lives, everything. For him.

They would search with him for the something that would destroy the Hallows, allowing him rest, to go Onwards and meet his parents, mentors, and friends.

His friends' loyalty was admirable. But this was his own problem. He didn't want to ruin the lives of his friends. Not when they were this happy.

He was going to leave during their honeymoon, so they would not need to hear of his conversation with Death or what his task was. Not until several years have passed and they realized that there was nothing they could do to help.

As he watched a glowing Hermione giggle at something Ron whispered in her ear on the dance floor, Harry could not help feeling a stab of sorrow at being unable to watch the couple as they came together to share life's burdens.

He silently raised a glass to them, toasting them to a life of happiness.

* * *

**A/N** \- Okay, so, not as long as I would like it to be, but overall, a good place to stop.

Have you people ever been to a wedding? Isn't it wonderful to watch the bride and groom melt in happiness, doing sappy (and maybe corny) romantic stuff and not caring about its sappiness? :)

Lots and lots of cyber-love to Viewers/Reviewers!


	5. Chapter 5: Ex Solem In Umbra

**Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Ex Solem In Umbra**

* * *

**Previously:**

_His friends' loyalty was admirable. But this was his own problem. He didn't want to ruin the lives of his friends. Not when they were this happy._

_He was going to leave during their honeymoon, so they would not need to hear of his conversation with Death or what his task was. Not until several years have passed and they realized that there was nothing they could do to help._

_As he watched a glowing Hermione giggle at something Ron whispered in her ear on the dance floor, Harry could not help feeling a stab of sorrow at being unable to watch the couple as they came together to share life's burdens._

_He silently raised a glass to them, toasting them to a life of happiness._

* * *

**Chapter 5: Ex Solem In Umbra**

(Posted 2014-12-16, Updated 2015-07-03)

After sending off the happily married newlyweds on their honeymoon, Harry helped out with the clean up, clearing the area of the chairs and packing away the numerous foodstuffs leftover.

As he was packing away a particularly big half-eaten cake that had graced the centerpiece of the wedding, a small bundle crashed into him from behind, almost sending the older man falling to the ground.

"Nucle Harry!"

Harry grabbed a hold of his godson, the almost five-year-old metamorphmagus with electric-blue hair, who was hanging onto his middle like a limpet. The older wizard swung his giggling godson around in a bear hug. "Hey Teddy. Ahh, you've gotten bigger, and I've only seen you last week!"

Teddy gave a whoop of glee when his godfather gave him another swing around. As soon as the older wizard placed his godson down, the blue-haired boy immediately tackled the older man, to which Harry retaliated by tickling him.

An amused-sounding woman's voice sounded from nearby, bringing the two playful males to a sudden stop. "Teddy, Harry, get out of those robes before you go rough-housing!"

Harry paused in his tickling, and Teddy sat up from his curled up position from the ground, both yelling out to the older woman who was vanishing the decorations in a tree.

"Okay, Grandma!" "Yes, Andromeda!"

The godson and godfather pair shared a secret look and fell laughing on the grass.

When the moment of hilarity had faded, Harry gave his godson a tight hug. He pulled the boy up until he was face to face and gave him an eskimo kiss. "Teddy, what do you say about visiting your parents and Granddad and my parents later, maybe in a few days? I'm sure they would love to hear all about you being the ring bearer today."

Teddy whispered, "Really? Can we take a picnic and go to the fields behind Godric's Hollow afterwards?"

"Of course, Teddy. Why don't we take your toy broom along too, and have a little game with me?"

"Can we?"

"Run along and ask your Grandmother when is a good time for her. The three of us will go and visit."

"Okay!"

{(TFM)}

~Few Days Later~

(-Several Hours _Ante Finem_-)

That morning, Harry couldn't get rid of the small niggling apprehension for the day's events that had begun the moment he got out of bed. He tried to shake it off with the thought of spending a pleasant day with his godson, but by the time he met Andromeda and Teddy, he still couldn't dampen the spark of foreboding. However, he put it aside from his thoughts and focused on listening to his godson babble about some gnomes that had sneaked into their gardens.

Remaining silent as they apparated to a small copse just outside Godric's Hollow and walking to the church graveyard together, he only spoke when Andromeda gave him a curious glance. As soon as Teddy had gone slightly ahead to explore a strange-looking plant by the roadside, Andromeda asked her ward's godfather a cordial question.

"Are you alright, Harry? You're not looking so well today."

Harry smoothed out some creases in between his eyebrows.

"It's nothing, Andromeda. It's just that ever since I've woken up this morning I can't shake this feeling that something is going happen," He sighed. "It's probably just waking up from the wrong side of the bed or something."

"Hmm. I see... nothing else, then?"

She was sharp as always, seeing through the mask he had carefully molded on. Harry dropped the reassuring expression, his face morphing into a more grim one.

"...Well, you could say I'm preparing for a long-ish trip, and I'm not really looking forward for it."

"Oh? Where are you going?"

"I can't exactly say; nothing's definite. Possibly all around the world, depending on the information I find."

"...How long?"

"Probably a few years, possibly more. The problem is, I don't think I can contact anyone for the time I'm away." He sighed again. "...I am not liking that aspect very much, and I doubt Teddy will, either..."

"You can't come visit?"

He spent a few moments deliberating on telling her the truth. When he decided that she, as a more experienced person, would understand his reasons and give good advice, the younger wizard started to speak, but was interrupted.

"I _could_, but – "

"Nucle Harry! Grandma 'Dromeda!"

Teddy exuberantly babbled about a chipmunk, unaware that he had interrupted a conversation. Harry gave a glance back at his godson's grandmother, conveying wordlessly that he would privately tell her later when their charge was more distracted. The look from Andromeda let him know that his promise would be remembered.

The rest of the walk to the graveyard was spent with Teddy giving a detailed account of how the chipmunk had come down from a tree to chatter at him, how he'd approached it and watched it groom itself a bit before it scurried off into the trees again.

The adults shared an amused look over Teddy's head as he chattered on, knowing from the constant flickering colors of the four- almost five-year-old's hair that he was very excited and happy.

But soon, they reached the graveyard, and Teddy became more subdued and quiet, knowing the solemnity of the cemetary.

The three reached the gravestones of Remus and Nymphadora first; Teddy knelt on the grass, wiping away the collected dirt on their gravestones. After sharing another look with Harry, Andromeda quietly walked away towards her husband's stone a few rows down, leaving the two behind.

As Harry watched his godson slowly brush away the dust that had collected on the top of the stone, his eyes flickering down towards the words on it. Hermione had remembered a famous muggle war epitaph after Harry had told her of Remus's last words; everyone who heard the poem afterwards all agreed that it was fitting.

Remus Lupin (10 March, 1960 - 2 May, 1998)

Nymphadora Lupin (3 August, 1973 - 2 May, 1998)

_When you go home_

_Tell them of us, and say_

_For their tomorrow_

_We gave our today_

Harry conjured a bouquet of irises and carefully handed it to his godson, who wordlessly took it and placed it gently in front of his parent's gravestones.

The older man gently spoke to his godson. "Ted? Want a little time alone?"

The almost-five-year-old nodded, slowly tracing the letters of the epitaph that he knew by heart, but only just began reading for himself.

"I'm going to be over there with my parents, alright?" Harry carefully asked.

Teddy nodded again, fiddling with the arrangement of the purple blossoms.

After a long look at the small figure sitting quietly in front of Remus' and Tonks' grave, Harry trudged over to his own parents' grave. He was about to conjure his own bouquet of flowers when he noticed the small rhododendron bush that was blooming very near the gravestone.

He crouched down and pulled away the weeds that were choking the bush up, smiling cheerfully and grumbling to the gravestone.

"Very funny, Dad. Setting up flowers and telling me I need to work on my transfiguration skills?" The twenty-two year-old gave a huff of amusement. "I know those irises back there were a little droopy, but it was better than nothing. Besides, it's Remus and Tonks. They'd appreciate it."

He brushed off the dirt from his parents' headstone, then stepped back to see his handiwork. With a sigh, Harry swept a hand across the stone, searching for invisible motes of dust.

"Mum... Dad... Am I doing right? Is it the right choice to leave to find something that might not exist?" He sat back on his heels. "There is the choice of living out my life until everyone I know... well, _dies_."

Sweeping a hand through his messy, untamed hair, he muttered. "...I'm starting to get serious doubts of the whole 'trip'. Is there really only these two options?"

Harry looked back to where Teddy and Andromeda was, both cleaning the headstones of their loved ones.

"Usually, when facing something impossible-sounding, the general advice would be to divide the burden and ask for help..." He frustratedly turned back to the grave. "Dividing a burden... I can't do that – I would be asking my friends to tear out what stability they have created for themselves, what peace they finally get to enjoy, for... for _this_."

A beat of silence, then Harry huffed a humorless laugh. "Ha. I don't ask for help often, but the one time I really need the help, no one, not even Death, can do anything about it."

Harry started clearing up the dead leaves and cutting away the overgrown grass from the area around the grave as he thought aloud.

"I suppose the main issue is whether or not to trust what Death told me." He pulled harder at a stubborn field grass that refused to be cut. "But Death... from what I felt that night, he was full of authority and power. He – well, not exactly sure if it was a he or she – he was definitely not human. His very presence was proof of that."

He vanished the defeated plant and started evening out the small hole from the weed's roots. "Would a being like him lie? I doubt it, but suppose _if_ he did... could he be lying, or hiding some other detail from me? Would he?"

He looked up at the sky. It was a nice day, the sun shining brightly in a blue sky dotted with drifting white clouds. "Not that I'm important or powerful enough for Death to tiptoe around me." Harry snorted. "And I don't exactly have a choice _but_ to trust him, so there isn't much I can do about it."

He stood up, brushing away the dirt from his hands.

"Well, Mum, Dad, I probably wouldn't be able to visit much with all the traveling I'll be doing." His mouth turned up into a small smile. "Researching destructive methods in destroying a magical artifact... doesn't sound too hard."

The young man looked down at the gravestone once again, green eyes scanning over his parents' names again. "So. I suppose this is goodbye for now, then. I'll come by again, I promise. Thanks for watching over me."

He hesitated, then with a bitter smile, said, "I... I really hope I see you sooner, rather than later. Love you both." Harry turned away from the grave, giving a small caress to one of the rhododendron flowers. He then walked to help his godson, who was struggling to uproot a stubborn weed.

{(TFM)}

(-_Ostentum_-)

The following short walk to the fields nearby was low-key, with all three each in his and her own thoughts. This silent pensive atmosphere would have continued if Teddy hadn't become distracted by something off to the side of the road, in the trees of the forest line.

The little lightning-blue-haired boy pointed, whispering excitedly. "Nucle Harry! Grandma! Look!" When they obliged their little charge, they were shocked to find that a stag was watching them, frozen in its position.

At the slight exclamation from Andromeda, the stag jumped away into the woods, antlers disappearing among the branches. Teddy looked disappointed at the stag's short stay, but tugged excitedly at his godfather.

"It was Prongs!"

Harry gave his godson an answering bright smile.

"You're probably right, Teddy." He fondly patted the electric-blue hair, looking back at the way the stag had gone. "I'm pretty sure that was Prongs' way of seeing us off."

{(TFM)}

(-20 Minutes _Ante Finem_-)

When they reached the clearing that served as the magical equivalent of the muggle park, Teddy's sights were immediately on the set of magical swings in the corner. The park was quiet and empty of all visitors except the three.

Before the blue-haired boy could race off, Andromeda detained her ward.

"Theodore Remus Lupin, stay right where you are. The swings are not going anywhere; you can go play after you finish your food."

The young Metamorphmagus' face fell, but at Harry's wink and whispered promise of flying later, the boy quickly obliged his grandmother.

{(TFM)}

(-_Via Ad Inferum_-)

Harry didn't have a chance to react to the full body-bind spell that hit him from behind – before Andromeda could react with her own wand, she was also under the full body-bind.

Teddy had not noticed yet, chasing a butterfly on his toy broom a short distance away; the cloaked man ignored the boy as he rummaged through Harry's clothes and pockets, all the while muttering, 'Where is it, where is it?'

Harry fruitlessly struggled against the magical restraints, trying to do everything he could to get free. He would have succeeded in a few more seconds with brute force, when the man found his holly and phoenix feather wand, and after examining it for a few seconds before throwing it a few feet away with a growl and conjured up magical ropes to wrap around the twenty-two year old.

The unknown assailant then undid the body-bind charm on Harry and pointing his wand at his face, demanded, "Where is it?"

By this time, Teddy had noticed that his godfather and grandmother was at the unknown man's mercy – he immediately headed for them, shouting in alarm. "Harry! Grandma!"

"Teddy, no! Get away!" Harry silently willed him to go and get help, but the child immediately headed towards the them, uncaring of the danger – just like his Gryffindor father.

The little boy slammed into the cloaked man in an attempt to save his family, but the man easily threw the four-year-old child far away, Teddy landing head-first quite a distance away.

Harry couldn't help the involuntary cry of worry for his godson. "Teddy!"

A low, growly voice brought his attention back to the wand pointed into his face threateningly.

"_Where is it_."

Harry glared back at his attacker. "What do you want."

The man's frown deepened. "Where is _the wand_."

At this, Harry firmly closed his mouth, knowing that the man was after the elder wand.

When there was no sign of his prisoner breaking his silence, the man pointed his wand towards the electric-blue-haired boy who was slowly getting up, still dazed from his fall. "I said, _where is the wand_."

Teddy looked up and froze when he saw that the wand was pointed at himself and fearfully made eye-contact with his godfather, not knowing what to do. "Uncle Harry...?"

Harry tried to get the attacker to stop pointing his wand at his son, trying to get his attention away from the blue-haired boy. "I don't know where it is! Be very still Teddy. Don't mov –" He grunted as he was lifted by the collar of his shirt.

The man – _sharp eyebrows, crooked nose, scruffy unshaven jawline, gray eyes_ – shook him roughly by the collar. "_The wand_. Where is it?"

Harry shook his head, choking out, "...It's not here! Please, Teddy and Andromeda have nothing to do with this –"

The man threw him down onto the ground a few feet away and approached Teddy, pointing his wand at the child. After a brief pause while he deliberated something and waited for Harry's attention to come back to him, he turned his wand toward the still-frozen Andromeda instead, and shout, "_Crucio_!"

Andromeda twitched and silently screamed as her body tried to break free from the body-bind in response to the unforgivable curse.

Harry was appalled by the sudden change of targets and could not help but start pleading. "No! Andro – _Stop_! No – do it to me, I can take it instead – _Please_ – No!"

Their scruffy attacker sneered at Harry's pleading and spitefully maintained the spell a few more seconds. When Andromeda made a particularly large twitch, he stopped the spell, then pointed his wand towards a wide-eyed Teddy.

"It's going to be the boy next. _Where is the wand_, Harry Potter?"

Harry quickly came up with a half-truth. "...It's at Dumbledore's grave at Hog-"

The man pointed his wand at Teddy and shouted, "_Crucio_!"

If Harry had thought hearing his mother die was the worst thing he could have ever heard in his life, it had changed to that of Teddy's screaming and thrashing form. _Anything_ would be better than hearing his godson in pain.

"_Teddy! No!_ _Stop, _stop!_ Please_!"

The attacker continued maintaining the curse, a glint of satisfaction deep in his eyes at the pain he saw in Harry's. "I have already checked Dumbledore's grave... _I said_, where is the wand?"

Teddy's screams made Harry desperate and frantic, his magic working overtime to untie the ropes around himself. He found himself answering, to get the man to stop hurting _his son_. "It's in the vault in my office at –"

Suddenly, a beam of wild magic shot from the still-screaming Teddy – _accidental magic_ – towards the cloaked man. The man cursed and stopped the cruciatus curse, trying to protect himself from the unfocused magical attack.

However, the unknown accidental magic went past the man's shield charm, causing the man to freeze in place in surprise. But before the effects of the uncontrolled magic could be seen, the attacker immediately began to tear through his robes, a frantic look on his face. A strange hum came from the man and vibrated throughout the clearing.

Before the man had a chance to take out whatever was causing the vibrations, a blast of energy came from one of the his pockets, throwing him away from the three victims. Milliseconds afterwards another hum and a pulse of white light cocooned around the unnaturally-still man.

In the few moments of shock that followed, Harry and Andromeda noticed that the enchantments on them had broken. Andromeda hurriedly struggled to get up while Harry untangled himself from the loosened ropes, hurrying when another pulse – stronger with a wider range – of white light appeared from the man's pockets.

Harry and Andromeda both realized that Teddy, magically drained from his bout of accidental magic and still befuddled from the cruciatus curse, was the closest to the deathly-still attacker and the mystery pulses of light. It was undoubtedly dark magic from some sort of magical artifact that their attacker had been carrying.

Harry continued to frantically loosen his ropes while Andromeda hurried to her grandson, knowing that the next pulse could come any second and catch the child who was shakily getting up from the ground.

When Andromeda was a few feet away, there was a hum of dark magic from the direction of the now-smoking body of their attacker.

"NO!" Harry ignored untangling himself for a moment, simply reaching out with his magic to try to reach his godson before the light – but all his efforts were in vain.

His damnable seeker's skills showed him the moment the pulse of light touched the child, showing the scene in slow motion. Harry's eyes immortalized the moment the light hit the blue haired child, _his son _– he saw every little detail, from the light being absorbed into Teddy's abdomen, to the moment his son's light brown eyes registered shock, then become blank with _death_ –

And it was and only was _death_, no doubt about it, for Death had the same aura –

He couldn't help but let out the howl of anguish at the sight – _nononono_ – as an eerily similar scene from before overlapped with what he saw now – one where a man, eyes blank with surprise – _SiriusSiriusnonono_ – was thrown into the air –

"TEDDY!"

But before he could escape entirely from his restraints and race towards his ward, his responsibility, his _son_, Andromeda beat him there.

Harry felt sharp phantom pains in his heart as he watched the shock registering in the woman's face. She shook her head in denial, but her eyes said she knew exactly what had happened, as he did. Harry sat staring helplessly, his own shocked grief sending his magic roiling under his skin as the older woman cradled her grandchild and sobbed out heart-wrenching pleas of _Teddywakeup, wakeupforgrandma,_ attempting to shake the small child awake from his eternal sleep.

She knelt, continuing to shake her grandson and telling him to _wake up_, uncaring that the magical artifact had started emitting small jets of light in every direction, making the area even more dangerous to be in. There was a hint of uncontrolled magic in the air, and Harry began to pick himself up, pushing down his grief and sorrow until they could get away.

The unstable flux of magic from the artifact was inappropriately beautiful in all its colors and artistic jets of color, but Harry ignored it, wrestling with the last few tangles of rope. All feelings were pushed aside, even the fact that his _son_ was _deaddeaddead_ –

At another shivering pulse of magic that spread throughout the clearing, he screamed at Andromeda to _get away from there_ and _save herself,_ but the grief-stricken woman sat still, clutching her grandson's body – no, _corpse_ – tightly to herself. She slowly looked up Harry as if hearing his voice from an incredible distance; she didn't seem to see or hear any of Harry's warnings and turned back to stare back at the epicenter where the magical pulses were originating from.

Harry finally stood, free from his tangled web of ropes; he began running towards Andromeda and his son (no, not _son_ – he never got around to telling Teddy about the adoption papers –) only to be on time to see the broken woman get caught up in the bright white (and wasn't that ironic, a pure color for dark magic) pulse of dark magic and fall back to the ground, arms limp around her grandson.

Another touch of death.

"ANDROMEDA!"

He had been, again, too far away to do anything.

The last thing he saw was a wave of white light, the same white light that had hit his last remaining family.

(_Inferum._)

* * *

Footnotes:

_Ex Solem In Umbra_ (From the chapter title) - From the light into the shadow

_Ostentum_ \- Occurrence foreshadowing future events

_Ante Finem_ \- Before the End

_Via Ad Infernum_ \- Way to Hell

_Inferum_ \- Hell

Flower meanings:

_Iris_ \- Wisdom and valour, inspiration

_Rhododendron_ \- Beware

* * *

**A/N** \- Um. I'm reading this again, and I can't believe I wrote this... _I_ feel sad for them, and I wrote it. ...Is that even possible?

Well... I hope it was an okay read. Hope you guys like it...? Unfortunately, Teddy had to die... *tentatively smiles from a safe distance from throwing projectiles*

Constructive Criticism is highly appreciated; no fire too hot.

(Much cyber-love to Reviewers and Viewers!)


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